


twisted

by yablochkey



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, Multi, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26129878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yablochkey/pseuds/yablochkey
Summary: The problem was that G’raha wanted more — something hot and raw and heart-wrenching. // ff14 drabble collection
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 16
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> english isn't my native language, so i'm sorry if there're any mistakes  
> if you have any prompts, i'll be glad to check them out. i enjoy writing UST and angst  
> i hope to write longer fics in the future/expand this drabble
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/morute_asher)

In some sense it was easier when he was just the Crystal Exarch, a faceless figure watching from afar. He couldn’t touch and he couldn’t get attached — he had a duty to fulfill and it didn’t matter what his heart desired. He had a world to save, a hero he wanted to support, and he was ready to give up his life for this.

It was strange to be G’raha Tia again, like it hadn’t been a hundred years. His body was young and full of energy, his limbs not corrupted by crystal. He could do so many things, but when he tried to picture what exactly he wanted to try he felt lost like a ship without a beacon of a lighthouse. Finally, after all these years he was free from his burden, but there was something bitter in his mouth every time he thought about it. 

It was nice to be with his friends, and of course G’raha cherished every moment he spent with his hero. Everything felt new, but also familiar: fights, jokes, cities. G’raha dreamed about all these things for so long, and it was still hard to believe that his dreams became real. All masks were abandoned, there was no need for more pretense. Every time their gazes met, G’raha felt a small tug in his chest. Oh, Twelve, he was so happy.

The problem was that G’raha wanted more — something hot and raw and heart-wrenching. He wanted to hear words whispered in the dark between moans and kisses, wanted to touch and to be touched in all the wrong places. It was so easy to be madly in love with the Warrior of Light. 

So, maybe he continued to play his small game. Little smiles and little touches, no more than that. G’raha thought that after a hundred years he knew all kinds of hunger, all kinds of pain, but was he wrong. His heart grew heavy and warm inside his chest every time they smiled at each other. It was silly how good he knew this face — he had looked at it for long, long years, but it was never enough. 

G’raha was so afraid to break this ephemeral peace, a sweet dream before the dawn. He was too greedy, even though he knew that he couldn’t get all the nice things. 

Sometimes, just sometimes he thought that they knew, and maybe even felt the same. It was so easy to indulge this fantasy — too often their conversations sounded like a confession. Maybe they were confessions on G’raha’s side — he didn’t know for sure. Words slipped from his mouth, heavy and warm, like stones under the sun. If they were close enough, they could have felt this warmth on their lips. 

He remembered when he was a little boy and stared down the old well, the darkness so thick that he could have touched it. It was scary but mesmerising in its own way, and, strangely, being in love with the Warrior of Light felt like that, too.

Laugh with me for a little bit longer, he wanted to say. Even if he couldn’t hold their hand or kiss their temple, he was okay with that. He waited for so long, that such things didn’t matter anymore. These days were golden and sweet like honey, and G’raha wanted to stay in them forever, like a fly caught in a glass jar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, but i'm still not a native speaker  
> i guess it's a continuation of the previous drabble  
> this is kinda sexual. i swear i can write happy things

It was the smallest things that hurt the most. A silly joke that seemed too flirtatious, their bright and mischievous eyes, a hand reaching out to pet the top of G’raha’s head. In such moments G’raha almost wished he were dead, because his heart was stuck in his throat, and he couldn’t breath, he couldn’t make a gulp of air. His body became numb, but at the same time he was keenly aware of it, how it grew hot and weak with every touch. When they touched his ear, threading thin strands of hair between their fingers, he felt like crying. He shivered, ears and tail twitching, nervous, longing, wanting more. Don’t stop, G’raha thought, but didn’t dare to say that out loud. He was pathetic, yes, but not that pathetic. 

They didn’t notice — or pretended they didn’t. G’raha thought the former — he lost all hope in controlling his own reactions, but the Warrior of Light was often too oblivious to notice the most obvious things. He was pretty sure that Y’shtola and Urianger knew, but they never commented on that, and G’raha was grateful for that. 

These moments, soft, half-true memories — they shined in his mind like reflections caught on sharp edges of broken crystal shards. G’raha didn’t really notice when his dreams of a world became dreams of a person. He thought that returning to the Source would heal his wounds, but no, his heart ached, so restless, so silly. It would be a lie if he said that he didn’t enjoy it. In its unique way it was a nice kind of pain. He had never felt so alive.

Nights were awful. He felt trapped in this body, built of bones, blood and desire. It was suffocating, like being covered by a heavy blanket. The Crystal Exarch didn’t sleep much, always watching, always planning, he didn’t think about warm, flush-tinted skin under his tongue or a simple pleasure of two bodies pressed together. G’raha Tia didn’t sleep much, because he was too scared to close his eyes. The only thing that bound them was the way they liked to feel the shape of these words on their tongue: the Warrior of Light, the Warrior of Darkness. These words, whispered in the night, lips pressed into the pillow, like he was telling the dirtiest secret — they didn’t have to mean anything, but only if he was quiet enough. 

G’raha didn’t dare to touch himself, but it was so easy to grind against the sheets to make everything a little bit less unbearable. His body was eager to respond, and all this was so new and overwhelming that G’raha felt like he was sick. The heat grew at the bottom of his abdomen and his throat felt hoarse, like he had swallowed the sun. He touched his ears — pretending, remembering, hurting — and the feeling was strong enough to make him come, but still not as good as if it was their hand touching him.

The shame burned hot on his face, bright red like an Ascian’s mask. With every passing night it was harder to meet their gaze — what if they thought that he was a disappointment or, even worse, that he didn’t deserve their trust? He could suppress his feelings, if it meant that their smile doesn’t fade. It was enough for him to hear his own name spoken with that warm and smiley voice. 

G’raha, he thought to himself, really.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, the plan was to write a happy fic about kissing to brighten my and possibly your day  
> i'm so bad

So, kissing was really nice.

Actually, G'raha pretty soon came to the conclusion that it was one of his favourite things from now on. It made him feel bubbly and warm inside, like when he thought about adventures, but even better. 

The summer slowly came to an end, and they bathed in the gentle sunlight of the last warm days. Nights grew colder, winds strong and the dark skies full of stars — sad and lovely like chocobo’ eyes. They often spent time together under a lonely tree in the middle of a dandelion meadow — the flowers now were bleak, all color lost in the never ending circle of life and death. When the meadow was still in bloom, a limitless yellow sea, it reminded G’raha of Il Mheg. He missed Norvrandt so much.

It took some time for him to get used to the sunlight. In the First, the light always felt dangerous and sharp as a knife pressing gently to the skin of your neck. This… this was different. G’raha liked to close his eyes and throw his head back, opening his face to the sun. His cheeks grew warm. It felt like a kiss.

It was a kiss. They sighed, quietly, and pressed their mouth firmly to his lips. They always took it slow, as if they didn’t have a world to save. As if G’raha was no less important. Before, his heart always started to beat faster whenever they got too close — it was like listening to that song from the Twinning, loud and restless. Now he felt calm and protected — in a way they were a home that he never hoped to find. 

Their lips moved slowly against his, hot and wet, and oh— 

Their tongue tasted sweet like the cherry pie Tataru made for them. 

G’raha could feel their soft smile grewing wider.

‘Don’t laugh’, he asked and started laughing himself. 

His heart was so full — he barely understood how he managed to keep this enormous feeling inside his chest. The word ‘love’ always seemed so big for him, so meaningful, but even it wasn’t enough to express how he felt. He wanted to explain his feelings, even though they already knew everything — and they didn’t even need the Echo for it. 

‘Your face is funny’, they said, touching his cheek. Their palm was surprisingly gentle for a hero. ‘And I like your freckles, you know’.

G’raha scratched at his nose self-consciously. His face was hot, but not from the sun.

‘Do you want to look at my face a little longer?’, he asked with a shy smile. They were so awful together, silly jokes and shameless flirt, but he liked it, he really-really liked it. Their conversations sounded so different, from the ones they had in Norvrandt — as if they were completely different people now.

They smiled, too, but their eyes were serious, searching.

‘Yeah, as long as you let me’. 

G’raha couldn’t understand why he felt so sad all of a sudden. There were lots of wounds on his heart, but he couldn’t find out which one of them started bleeding. It was only natural to move closer to them and lean for a hug. They were so strong, but so human. G’raha was so afraid that one day they would break and he wouldn't be able to help them. Now he was even weaker than he was before.

Their eyes seemed so bright, but G’raha couldn’t see his own reflection in them. 

‘Promise that you won’t leave me anymore’, he asked jokingly, lips brushing their chin, though it wasn’t a joke at all. 

Their smile was gentle and quiet, like a lazy summer afternoon before a long road. G’raha knew all too well that the Warrior of Light wasn’t afraid of making promises.

Until they did.


End file.
